


The Scarlet Thread

by rubygirl29



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubygirl29/pseuds/rubygirl29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is captured and tortured by the Genii, and the psychological damage is slow to fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scarlet Thread

**The Scarlet Thread**

"My name is Theron Heurin. I am the Prime of the Caldosians. Welcome to Caldos."

Caldos was a rather grim planet with overcast gray skies, houses build of gray stone, and populated by pale, gray-faced humans. Heurin was no exception. Something about the set of the man's eyes and the wide, slightly fishy smile made John wary. He took the offered hand; it, too, was cold and clammy. "John Sheppard and Ronon Dex." He was very glad that Ronon was at his back. He wished he could see Ronon's face; read his expressions, but he had told him to stay in the background and look threatening. Judging from Heurin's slightly alarmed expression, Ronon was doing exactly as John wanted.

"Where do you hail from?" Heurin asked.

"Away. We've been exploring through the Rings of the Ancestors."

"Ah. What made you choose our fair city?"

City? It was a town, a civilization on the borderline of pre-industry. "Random chance," John said. He looked around. "Many planets we visited had been culled by the Wraith."

Heurin nodded. "Yes, we have had refugees come here for many years. Has your planet been culled?"

"We were attacked. We fought back. We won."

"How?" Heurin asked. He looked impressed.

"We had a few tricks up our sleeve," John said. He saw Heurin's eyes go to his P-90.

"Would you be willing to share those tricks?"

"We'll talk," John said.

Heurin managed to look almost friendly. "You and your friend will be welcome at my table. After we eat, perhaps we can learn more about each other."

John looked at Ronon. "We can do that."

"Follow me. I will show you to the inn. I will come to guide you after you have been rested and refreshed." He took them to a two-story stone building where the only color came from the lanterns glowing through the age-frosted windows.

Their room held two beds with stingy straw mattresses and thin blankets, a small night table with a candleholder, hooks on the wall for clothing, and a basin of lukewarm water. John made a wry face. "If this is the equivalent of a VIP suite, it kinda makes me wonder what the rest of the people get."

"Six to a room and wooden pallets," Ronon said. He had been to many planets where that was the norm for everyday travelers.

John sat on the bed gingerly. "Not too bad. I've slept on worse. Smells clean. Doesn't seem to be bug-infested. He lay back cushioning his head on his arms. "Wake me in forty-five."

Ronon paced the small room. "I'm gonna go out and look around. I don't like this place."

"Anything in particular, or just a general bad feeling?"

Ronon looked at him. "You don't feel anything off?"

"Besides the general misery, no." He closed his eyes. "Go. Snoop around."

Ronon hesitated briefly. What could happen? Sheppard had his P-90, a 9mm, and his knife. _But he doesn't have me,_ Ronon objected to himself. Trying to ignore his inner warning, he closed the door and went out into the muddy street.

The few Caldosians on the street passed him without meeting his eyes, keeping theirs downcast. Occasionally, he'd catch somebody glancing at him, then they would shy away from contact like they had been burned. Ronon did his best to look, if not harmless, at least not menacing. It didn't help. He still loomed over the local population whose growth seemed to have been stunted by the lack of sunlight.

He wandered down an alley, heard something and drew his gun, moving into the shadows. Two men, taller than the locals and wearing disturbingly familiar uniforms walked past. Genii. Not as bad as the Wraith, but not good news, either. They passed the alley and Ronon slipped out, following them and keeping to the dark side of the street. It was nearly nightfall. The only illumination was provided by the occasional fire-pot on street corners and the pale pools of light from windows.

He should go back and get Sheppard, but he also wanted to know what the Genii were doing on Caldos and if they, too, were welcome guests. How many of them were there, and how many more were coming? He slipped out of the alley and followed the two Genii.

They stopped in front of what looked like a private residence, larger and well-lit. They knocked and the door opened. Theron Huerin stood there, his hand extended in welcome. This was bad. Ronon turned as quietly as he could and headed back towards the inn. He took the stairs two at a time and shoved the door to their room open. "Sheppard!"

The room was empty. There was no sign of a struggle, but Sheppard's boots lay forlornly on the floor; the only sign that he had even been there. There was a sound behind him, a slight scrape of a boot sole on wood. Ronon whirled, his gun ready, but he was too late. A blast of blue fire from a Wraith stunner hit him full in the gut. The pain was excruciating, but he remained conscious. He tried to lift his arm and aim at his attacker. Instead, a second beam shot out, this one taking him on the side and driving him to his knees. Dimly, he was aware of voices. He tried to focus through the fog of semi-consciousness. He was shoved down, metal touched the base of his skull and then a final blast hit him; fizzling down his spine, paralyzing him. He fell forward, unable to move. Darkness overtook him and he felt nothing more.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 _"How is he, Doctor?"_

 _"If he weren't so strong, he'd be dead. As it is, I canna be certain how long the paralysis will last."_

 _"When will he regain consciousness? He is the only one who can tell us what happened to Colonel Sheppard."_

 _"Elizabeth, it is possible that the Colonel is ... that he didn't --"_

 _"I won't believe that until I see his body. Until then, he is alive. It seems we have a mystery to solve."_

 _"You sound like Sherlock Holmes."_

 _Elizabeth gave him a wry smile. "Hardly. You believe Ronon was shot by Wraith stunners?"_

 _"Aye, the wounds are consistent with that ..."_

 _"There were no signs that the planet had been culled in the near past, or signs of a current incursion. Therefore, there were no Wraith."_

Ronon struggled through the veils of sensations: Sound, scent, pain, awareness. He focused all his will on his hand. It twitched. He tried again and this time, he grabbed Weir's hand. "Genii," his voice rasped through his nearly paralyzed vocal cords, but she heard him.

"Ronon? Carson, he's awake! Did you say Genii?"

Beckett turned away from the monitors. He guided Elizabeth away from Ronon's side before she could start grilling him. Medical issues came first, and he was in charger here. He set a hand on Ronon's shoulder. "Easy, lad. You've had quite a beating."

"Had worse." His entire body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of needles. He had learned long ago to be grateful for pain, because pain meant you were still alive. He opened his eyes. Found Weir's. "Genii. I saw them."

"You saw them take the Colonel?" He nodded. He could move his head, his neck, his shoulders. Sensation and movement were returning quickly. His legs? Not yet, but he'd work on it.

"Water?" he asked.

Becket held a cup of ice chips to his lips. "Until your swallow reflex is normal ..." he explained.

Elizabeth persisted despite Carson's warning frown. "What happened on the planet? What happened to Colonel Sheppard?'

"The Genii happened," Ronon let an ice chip melt slowly on his tongue. "I saw them. Went to look for Sheppard. He was gone. I got ambushed. That's all I know."

Elizabeth tapped her radio. "Major Lorne, ready an off-world team. You, Dr. McKay, Teyla and a squad of marines."

"You're not going without me," Ronon said. He struggled upright. His legs were heavy, weak. He had to stand, had to move, had to be ready to run. He had to save Sheppard. He owed him that much and more.

"Where do you think you're going?" Beckett asked.

"With Lorne," Ronon said.

"Two hours ago, you were nearly dead."

"That was two hours ago." He grabbed the rails at the side of the bed, swung his legs over and stood up. At first, his knees buckled and he had to catch himself before he fell to the ground. He gritted his teeth, forced himself upright.

"You can't go anywhere," Beckett objected.

"The more I move, the faster I'll get strong again. I've been stunned like this before."

Carson looked at Elizabeth, hoping she would side with him, not Ronon. She looked from Carson to the warrior, standing only slightly unsteady on his legs and only slightly favoring his side. "Are you sure?" she asked. His expression told her to stop asking stupid questions. "If you're not in the jumper bay in fifteen minutes, we'll leave without you."

Ronon glared at Carson, daring him to object. Carson just threw his hands up in surrender.

Elizabeth paused in the doorway. "Carson, I want you on standby. "We don't know that Colonel Sheppard has been injured, but if he has ...

"I'll be ready," Carson said. He got out a hypodermic and a small bottle. He took a step towards Ronon, who backed away from the needle like it was a weapon."What is that?" he growled.

"It's a nerve stimulant to speed your recovery, but I still say you're putting your life in jeopardy, not to mention the lives of the others. Think about that, lad."

He had thought about it. If he had any doubts he would have stayed back. But he knew his body, he knew what he had been through over the last seven years. He knew that he would be fine. Above all, he knew he had to find John; because without Sheppard, he might as well be dead.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

They could have used the Atlantis gate, but Rodney had argued that using the Athosian gate would be an extra security measure. So they crowded into the jumper. Ronon, Lorne, Elizabeth, Teyla, Beckett and five marines. It was an uncomfortable, but short flight. Lorne set the jumper down on the mainland and McKay dialed the Caldosian gate.

They stepped through into dim, early morning light and a fine mist. The weather on Caldos hadn't improved. "Oh, for God's sake, we're all going to come down with pneumonia," Rodney complained. He peered at the Life Signs Detector. "Nobody in the immediate area."

Ronon, Lorne, Teyla and the Marines spread out to search the surrounding terrain. Ronon felt the same unease that had plagued him since he had first set foot on Caldos.

"What is it?" Teyla asked him.

"Nothing."

Teyla touched his arm. "It is not _nothing_. You were ambushed, injured, betrayed."

"So was Sheppard. I'm alive. He is, too." _He has to be._

Teyla's earpiece crackled. "Yes?"

Ronon tapped his, and heard Lorne's voice, hard and emotionless. "I've found something. I'm about 500 feet due west of the jumper. Dr. Weir, you need to be here." For the first time, there was a crack of emotion in Lorne's voice and Ronon felt sick. He and Teyla took off at a run towards Lorne's location.

Lorne was standing over a patch of moist, freshly turned earth, roughly the size of a grave. No headstone, just a branch stuck in the ground and draped over it, black fatigues and black boots, laces knotted tight.

"No," Elizabeth said. "No."

Rodney looked stricken. "Is it ...?" He couldn't say the word.

Lorne looked at Elizabeth. "Ma'am?" Grief, anger, fear warred in Lorne's throat. Ronon knew better than to try to speak. A howl of pain and rage would break from his soul, so he kept silent.

"Dig it up. He deserves better than this."

Ronon fell to his knees and began shoving clods of dirt aside, clawing his way through the thick, clinging soil. Lorne finally pulled him back. The mist had turned into rain; rivulets of water fell down his face and hid his tears. Lorne gave him a small shovel and they both dug their way down and down, until Lorne's shovel hit pale wood that splintered under the blade.

He, Ronon and the marines muscled the crude wooden coffin out of the earth. Lorne looked from Elizabeth to Ronon. Ronon nodded and pried the lid open with his shovel. Nails screamed as they were ripped out of the damp wood. He closed his eyes, flipped the lid over.

Ronon sagged against Lorne, his eyes closed as if against the rain. Lorne held him up as Rodney tore away the canvas bag. A moment, a breath, a pause that seemed to last an eternity, then Rodney speaking. "It's not him. It's not him!"

Teyla grabbed Ronon's arm. "It's not him, Ronon! There is still hope."

Ronon's knees gave way and he found himself staring into an unfamiliar face. Dark hair, a pale face, and a grayish Genii uniform. The man's throat had been cut.

Had Sheppard escaped? Was he hiding out? Was he injured? No matter what the answers were, Sheppard, as far as they knew, was alive. Elizabeth looked at the team. "Major Lorne, I want you with me. The marines should stay and watch the gate. Perhaps Colonel Sheppard will try to reach it. Rodney, can you tell me the last address dialed?"

"I can, but you know it will take time, and it won't be one hundred percent accurate."

"Do what you can. I think we need to talk to whoever was the last person to see Colonel Sheppard."

"And if they're Genii?" Ronon asked, spitting out the bile in his throat.

"Then we will have a bargaining chip," she said. "Where is the town?"

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

They strode through the streets, heedless of the mud. Ronon took the lead. A P-90 was hooked on the strap of his sword. It wasn't heavy but it swung slightly against his chest with every step, a deadly metronome. His gun had been taken. He would get it back. He would give Sheppard the P-90.

"Here. This is the inn. Heurin's house is the large house facing the square. The alley is where I saw the Genii."

McKay shivered. "Does the sun _ever_ shine here?" He turned up the collar on his jacket and swept the LS detector around. "There are people in the town," he said. "It looks like Sheppard's transmitter has been removed." He didn't voice the other possibility. Hope was too new and tender to be broken.

"Let's wake them up," Elizabeth said. She nodded at Ronon. "Do it."

He walked up to Heurin's door and pounded on the planks. Heurin jerked the door open. He looked frightened, pale. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you think I wouldn't come back for my friend?" Ronon asked. "Think again." He shoved Heurin up against the wall, his forearm pressing on his throat. "Where is he?"

"Dead!" Heurin squeaked.

"Wrong."

"I saw his body! I saw --"

Elizabeth stepped forward. "I am Elizabeth Weir. I speak for our people. You saw a dark-haired man being buried. You saw somebody put Colonel Sheppard's fatigues on the grave so we would think he was dead. You should know that we will never leave one of our own behind, alive or dead, so it would be wise to tell us the truth."

Heurin looked at her. "I don't know." It wasn't the answer or the attitude Ronon wanted to hear. He leaned in, exerting pressure on his larynx and cutting off some of Heurin's air. He tried to swallow, and gagged. "Truly. I don't know."

"I saw the Genii," Ronon growled. "Don't lie to us."

Elizabeth intervened. "Minister, perhaps you made a deal with the Genii. I know how persuasive they can be, but believe me, we can be persuasive as well."

Before Heurin could reply, Teyla came up to Elizabeth. "Rodney has found Colonel Sheppard's life signs detector. It was near the gate."

"Minister Heurin, can you explain that?"

Heurin's gaze skated nervously about; avoiding Ronon, looking at Teyla and Elizabeth as if gauging where their sympathies would lie. The Genii offered technology. A power source, if we would allow them to meet with Colonel Sheppard."

"To meet with him? You mean to betray him to his enemies!"

"I didn't know! By the stars, I didn't know!" Heurin's face was nearly gray with shock and fear. "I am sorry about your friend, but my planet is poor. Our winter is long. We have no resources and our crops failed to thrive. I no choice. Let hundreds of my people starve, or give the Genii what they wanted. They only wanted one man, a stranger, in exchange for help in developing a source of power that will provide us with food and heat? What would you have done?"

"I wouldn't have betrayed an innocent man to his enemies."

"He was a _threat_!"

"Sheppard never threatened you," Ronon rasped. "You lie."

"The Genii said he would. They said he was without honor."

Elizabeth was shaking. "So you believed them because you wanted to? Here is the truth about the Genii. They have power, but it is a poisoned technology -- half of their people suffer severe illnesses from being exposed to it. We also have power, and Colonel Sheppard would have offered it freely, for an exchange of friendship and allegiance against our common enemies. He would not have demanded a man's life in trade! You will tell us what we need to know to get Colonel Sheppard returned safely to us."

"I don't know anything!" Heurin wailed, and Ronon looked like he was about to strangle the man.

"Ronon, let him go," Elizabeth said.

"Why?" Ronon snarled.

Teyla touched his arm gently. "I doubt that he knows anything, Ronon. He cannot help us find Colonel Sheppard if he is dead."

Ronon glared at Heurin cowering against the wall. "If you are lying, I will hunt you down and kill you." He stepped back and Heurin nearly collapsed. "And I want my gun back."

Heurin nodded. "It is at my house."

"Why didn't the Genii take it?"

Heurin paled, looked away. "It was part of my payment."

Ronon was reaching for his throat when Elizabeth stopped him. "We'll get your gun, and then we'll find Colonel Sheppard." She turned to Heurin, her eyes merciless. "If he is dead, I will let Ronon Dex carry out his threat."

They went to the gate where Rodney and Lorne were waiting. Lorne held out the bloodied subcutaneous transmitter. "I don't think the Genii removed it. I think the Colonel cut it out and left it to tell us that he had been taken through the gate."

"Why do you say that?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because it's what I would have done," Lorne said simply. "Leave a message for the S&R team."

"Why the transmitter? Isn't that counter-productive?"

"Ma'am, that was probably all he had left," Lorne explained with a glance at the dark fatigues draping the grave marker.

 

Elizabeth flushed. "Yes." She sighed and turned to Heurin. "Do you have a gate address to contact the Genii?"

He dug in his pocket and came up with a piece of paper. Ronon took it from him and gave it to McKay.

Rodney began the dialing sequence. "First stop. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"Or maybe it's a dead end," Lorne instructed two of the Marines to stick to Heurin like glue and to return to Atlantis at the first sign of trouble or until they were contacted. "We'll see you there."

"Yes, sir. What about him?" Stackhouse jerked his head in Heurin's direction.

"If he makes one wrong move, if we find Sheppard isn't alive ..." Lorne's voice dropped to a grim whisper. "You know what to do."

"Yes, sir." No doubt, no objections.

Rodney entered the final symbol and the gate sprang to life. They stepped through and into darkness.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"Have I ever told you how much I hate the dark?" Rodney asked as he waited for Lorne and the Marines to sweep the area around the gate. The life signs detectors showed a number of readings that were probably wild animals. "I mean look at this ..." He showed Elizabeth the display. "Wild animals ... small, vicious wild animals."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "Vicious? So far I haven't noticed. Though it is a little chilly." She rubbed her arms. She thought about John, wondered if he was somewhere in the darkness, in the cold. _In a grave._ She told herself to stop thinking like that, to start thinking like the leader she was. "Rodney, can you get anything from the gate addresses?"

"Time, Elizabeth. It takes time." He was bent over the crystals, distracted from his fears. The returning Marines' flashlights bobbed in the darkness. Ronon and Lorne were in the lead; both of them looked grim.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

Lorne opened his hand. Something was wrapped in a bandanna. Elizabeth was afraid to look until she saw the dull glint of metal. Lorne explained, "The Colonel's breakaway dog tag."

"Did he drop it?"

"Possibly. If we had a fingerprint kit ..."

McKay spoke up. "We have something better. DNA."

"Back in Atlantis," Ronon said. "I don't like leaving the hunt. We'll lose the trail."

"What trail?" Rodney asked. "I need gate addresses. That takes time. We need DNA testing, that takes equipment we don't have."

Lorne surprised Elizabeth by supporting McKay. "Ma'am, we aren't equipped for a long hunt. We need food, medical supplies, weapons and ammunition. More marines. A jumper. The Genii have weapons that can do damage. We can't go in there without being prepared."

"Ronon?"

He nodded in reluctant agreement. "What about Heurin? What if he he's got more information than he's letting on?"

"Or an accomplice," Rodney said.

"I would not put it past him," Teyla said. She looked cold and tired. Lorne took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

Elizabeth sighed. "Ronon, go back to Caldos. We'll get supplies and reinforcements and bring a jumper to pick you up ... in ... eight hours?"

"At the gate at sunrise," Ronon agreed. He waited for Rodney to dial Caldos, then stepped through. The others went through after Rodney dialed Atlantis.

Somewhere, John Sheppard was waiting. They wouldn't let him down.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
 **Part Two**

Elizabeth paced in the infirmary while Carson Beckett to analyzed the dog tags. He finally looked up from his microscope. "The DNA belongs to Colonel Sheppard. I also took the liberty of having Lieutenant Weldon, from security, dust for fingerprints. The only prints on the tags are Colonel Sheppard's. I'd say that he was alive when he dropped them. That's hopeful, no?"

She sank down on a chair in relief. "Yes. It is hopeful, Carson. Thank you." Her head ached and she rubbed her temples. She wouldn't be accompanying the search team, even though every fiber of her being longed to go with them. She touched her radio. "Major Lorne, is your team ready?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"The good news is that it appears that Colonel Sheppard dropped the dog tags himself."

"And the bad news?"

"Dr. McKay hasn't been able to extract the next gate address. Let's hope Ronon has found something on Caldos."

"I hope so, ma'am. We'll be leaving when we load the last of the supplies."

"Stay in touch, Major. Good luck."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you. We'll bring him home."

 _Home._ Lorne, one of the natural ATA carriers, had felt what she had been imagining. Atlantis seemed empty, lonely, without Sheppard. It went beyond the concern the members of the expedition felt, it was the city itself missing Sheppard. Nobody spoke to the city like he did; the city sang for him and mourned for him. She didn't go to the gate room, but she watched the jumper leave on her office monitor. "Come home, John," she whispered before she turned back to the work on her desk.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Caldos was as damp and dreary as it had been when he had left it. This time, he wore a leather coat, his sword in a scabbard at his side, and his gun strapped securely to his thigh. There was a 9mm tucked in the small of his back, and an assortment of knives concealed on his body. He was a walking arsenal, but nothing was more dangerous than his anger. He nursed it burning in his gut, let it surround and inflame his heart. He had agreed to meet the search and rescue team at the gate, but if he discovered where Sheppard was being held, he would go through that gate alone. A lost minute could cost Sheppard his life.

Ronon moved through the streets under the cover of darkness. It would be dawn in a few hours, but he preferred to hunt at night. He made his way to Heurin's house. It was dark. He tested the door and felt the rigidity of a bolt. The door was secure, as were the windows. Ronon found a rain barrel and climbed on it, then hoisted himself to the roof. There was a trapdoor; he figured there would be. On the few days of sunshine, the Caldosians opened the doors for ventilation and light. Foolishly, Heurin had left it unsecured, though Ronon had been prepared to blast his way in if he had to. He opened it silently and lowered himself into the main room of the house.

The fire was banked, the embers glowing faintly. A corner of the room was curtained off -- Heurin's sleeping chamber. Ronon drew his knife and slid the blanket silently aside. He knelt next to Heurin and set the cold iron against the man's neck. Before the Caldosian could cry out, Ronon clapped a hand over his mouth. Heurin's eyes were wide with alarm.

"Tell me what I want to know and I won't kill you," Ronon whispered softly. "Lie to me and you'll watch your blood leak out until you're dead. Understand?"

Heurin nodded. Ronon let the tip of his knife draw a bead of blood, and Heurin whimpered. "Tell me where to find your Genii accomplice. I know they did not all leave with Sheppard." He lifted his hand to allow Heurin to speak.

"At the inn. He's not in uniform."

"Which room?"

"Big one on the second floor."

"His name?"

"Eskevan."

Ronon pulled out his gun and shot Heurin. Briefly, he had considered setting it to kill, but decided to do as Sheppard would have wanted. He could kill the man later if he had lied.

The inn door was opened by a sleepy kitchen boy who took one look at Ronon and backed away from the entrance. Ronon dug in his pocket and gave the boy a coin. He winked and held his finger to his lips, like he was trusting the boy to keep a secret. He headed up the stairs.

He used one of his small, narrow-bladed knives to open the door and pulled out his gun. Two bodies on the bed. A man and a woman. This was not something he had anticipated. He stroked the woman's shoulder. She sighed, stretched, revealing generous breasts. One more light touch and she opened her eyes. Ronon's hand came down over her mouth quickly. He made a hushing motion. "Get out," he mouthed. The man next to the woman moved and snored. His breath was sour with ale. "Go."

The woman snatched a robe from the foot of the bed and scurried from the room. Ronon sat on the edge of the bed and got out his knife. "Eskevan?" The answer was a grunt. Ronon nudged him with the hilt. "Eskevan. Genii. Wake up."

He did, with the point of Ronon's knife poised over his jugular. After that, it was easy. Easy for Ronon, not for the Genii. He left a quivering, bleeding coward on the bed where a Genii soldier had been. He wasn't proud of what he had to do, but he left with what he wanted. The gate address where a man called Acasta Kolya had taken the 'Lantean prisoner.

Ronon left the address on a flat stone marked with a scrap of his shirt near the DHD, dialed it, and stepped through. He was going to find Sheppard and bring him home.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The planet he stepped out on was bathed in early morning light. The gate and controls were overgrown, but for bent grasses that Ronon followed away from the site. Three, maybe four men, and one being dragged. There was no blood. It could mean Sheppard was still alive. Or it could mean they were dragging a corpse.

Ronon kept to the trail. It was preternaturally quiet; no wild animals, no birds, He wondered why. The planet had the stillness that he recalled from places the Wraith had culled. He stopped in his tracks and pulled out his gun before he started walking again.

The grasses grew thin and dry, then faded into dusty soil. Stunted fir trees grew from rocks, and the trail grew as thin as the grass. Then it stopped. Ronon found himself facing a rock wall, and in front of the wall were the husks of two Genii soldiers. They had been attacked by the Wraith.

Ronon dropped to his knees. He wanted to howl, to rend his dreads, to beat against the rock until his hand bled and his bones were crushed. He felt scalding tears falling down his cheeks, running into his beard and dropping on his fingers. He was too late. He was lost.

 _Stop._ The voice of his father was clear in his mind. _Stop and look at what is before you, not what you think you see. Emotion will cloud you, boy. Now, put it away in your heart and see with your eyes. Use the skills you have been taught._

Ronon wiped his tears away. His vision cleared. Two dead Genii. Where were the others? He studied the tracks. Heavy-heeled boot prints told him that there was only one Wraith. He hadn't been looking for signs of the Wraith; he had been too focused on the Genii. He stood up slowly and followed the tracks. The Wraith had been moving quickly. A sudden swirl in the dust and a deeper heel print showed where he had paused and probably fired his stunner.

Less than fifty yards further, Ronon found the Wraith. Dead. Shot by weapons such as the Genii carried. It had been dead for at least three days. There were no signs that they had carried, or dragged Sheppard that far. Ronon headed back to where the trail had stopped.

He studied the rock formation. In what had first appeared to be a solid wall, he now saw shadows and crevices revealed by the lowering sun, and a narrow path threading through the rocks. Footing was precarious, and the trail of prints was nearly impossible to follow, but he was used to hunting, to finding prey, so he went carefully and silently. The only tracks were Genii, and the drag of a body.

The path curved around to the far side of the formation where a dark crevice, scarcely wide enough for him to enter sideways, led into a cave. Ronon slipped in. The darkness was palpable even with the light bleeding in from the entry. In an hour, when the sun was lower in the sky, it would be absolute. He cautiously followed the path, brushing against the wall with his palms. The air grew cooler, then cold. He had entered a wider chamber.

"Sheppard?" His voice echoed, whispering in a far greater space than he had anticipated. He shivered. With nearly as much caution as he had entered, he exited the cave. Tearing the sleeves from his shirt and lashing together several branches from a scrub pine, he made two torches, lighting it with a shot from his gun on the lowest power just before he re-entered the cave.

The cavern was large. Water dripped from limestone formations. Ronon had seen such things before; on Sateda there had been vast caverns like stone forests. This one was less impressive, given another few aeons, perhaps it would rival the Satedan caves. But for now, it was dark, cold, and silent. Small passages led off the main chamber, which seemed to suggest that at some time in the distant past, the caves had been mined. He paced cautiously across the floor, holding his torch at each passage. No air stirred from the first two, the final one sent out enough of a draught to make the flame flicker.

Ronon had to hunch over to navigate the narrow tunnel. The path was wet, the walls were sheeted with water, and it was cold. His torch was beginning to gutter. He lit the second one from the remains of the first.

"Sheppard?" He whispered. The echoes mocked him. He entered a small, dank chamber. Thick chains had been driven into the walls and there was a rusted grate in the floor. Ronon felt sick. This wasn't a mine. It was a prison. His eyes saw scratches on the floor and flakes of rust on the grate. It had been recently opened.

"Sheppard!" This time, he didn't whisper. This time, he heard a sound, no more than an exhalation. He yanked at the grate, his strength tearing it from the rust-weakened and twisted hinges. He held the torch into the darkness. It was a cell; not large, not deep. Ronon laid the torch down and carefully eased himself down. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the wavering light.

He heard the hitch of a breath and then he saw Sheppard. He crawled over to him. The Genii had taken his uniform and Sheppard was wearing some sort of thin woven shirt and pants. His feet were bare, cold as ice. Ronon tried to warm them in his hands. "Hey, buddy. Told you I'd come for you." He hadn't, but he had willed it hard enough that Sheppard had to know it was true.

He ran gentle hands over Sheppard's body. He turned him gently. Even in that dark place, he had been blindfolded. He was tied, hand and foot with leather thongs that had tightened as they dried, cutting into his flesh. Ronon cut the bindings on his legs. He kept his hands tied so he could slip them over his neck. He touched Sheppard's throat. His skin was cold, his pulse thready. He wasn't conscious, but he was breathing.

He would have died there; alone, abandoned by his Genii captors, unknown by the Wraith. If Ronon hadn't come through the gate, they might never have found him. He might still die, if Ronon couldn't get him out of there. "Okay, buddy. We're gonna do this together," he said,. "Don't know how, but we will."

It took too long. Sheppard was long and lean, but even having lost weight, he was still heavy and lax. By the time Ronon had heaved him over the lip of the entrance, the torch was guttering. By the time he had climbed out, it was nothing but embers. There was nothing for Ronon to use as another torch, and in despair, he watched it dim and die.

He gathered Sheppard close, held him for warmth. Held him, because there was nothing else he could do. Maybe, in full daylight, some glimmer of light would leak into the darkness and he could move, but until it did, he couldn't risk the paths in the black night.

"We'll wait," he sighed. "They'll come." He spoke with more faith than he felt. His hope was fading as the torch had died.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The team stepped out of the cloaked jumper onto Caldosian soil. It was daylight; the usual grim and gray skies overhead threatened rain. Lorne shivered. This place gave him the willies. Even foggy San Francisco had sunny days. This place seemed to have been formed of darkness, damp and gloom. The marines did a quick sweep of the area.

"Sir, there's no sign of Ronon Dex," one of them informed him. "Perhaps we should go into town."

It wasn't like Ronon to miss a rendezvous, particularly with Sheppard's life depending on it. Lorne looked at Rodney. "Can you pick up his transmitter?"

"No, but this gate has been dialed recently."

"Great." Lorne rubbed his forehead. "Just what we need -- more wasted time."

"Major!" Teyla ran towards him, a swatch of cloth in her hand. "Ronon was here. He left this ..." she tugged him towards a rock. "Look."

It took a moment, but the scratches finally registered as symbols. "McKay ... is that ...?"

"Yes, yes, yes. An address. He must have gone through. It figures he'd rush off without us."

"Dial it," Lorne ordered. "Sergeant, get your marines together. We'll deal with Heurin later."

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Ronon was afraid to sleep. Sheppard was still unconscious, but aware on some level that he wasn't alone. He was shivering despite the warmth of Ronon's body, his hands fisted in Ronon's shirt his face turned to Ronon's chest. Because there was nothing to be done in the darkness, Ronon talked to Sheppard. He talked about Atlantis, about Teyla and Rodney, about Lorne and the others. He talked about Sateda and his father. About traditions ... About the scarlet thread.

"When a boy has ten summers, he spends a night alone in the forest. He's given only a knife, and he must make shelter, a fire, and kill his prey. Before I left my village, my father tied a piece of scarlet thread around our wrists, kind of like handcuffs. When I reached the forest, my father cut the thread and said, 'As I cut the cord that bound you to your mother at birth, I will cut this thread that binds the child to the man.' When the I returned to the village in the morning, my father took the thread from his wrist and weaved both threads into his my hair. He said, 'Ronon Dex, you are a man, but we are bound together for life.'"

Ronon fell silent. "Don't know why I told you that, but it means something to me." He smoothed Sheppard's hair. "Maybe you heard, maybe not. Maybe I'll tell you again, sometime." He shifted Sheppard's body to wrap him more securely in his arms, and waited.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Ronon hadn't bothered to disguise his tracks. It was easy for Teyla to follow them. McKay tried the life signs detector, but it kept coming up void of any indication that either Ronon or Sheppard were nearby. Rodney wouldn't admit the possibility that they were both dead ... both gone from this place.

They found the dead Genii. "Wraith," Teyla said, though it was obvious.

Lorne bent down and touched one of the bodies. "I don't know how to tell how long they've been dead. It's been a while, I'm guessing. "Three, maybe four days."

"Sir," Stackhouse's voice came over the com. "I found a dead Wraith."

"On my way."

They made their way to Stackhouse's position. Lorne looked down at the body. He had been hoping the wounds had been made by Ronon's gun, but these were clearly caused by Genii weapons. He had two dead Genii, one dead Wraith, no sign that either were still on the planet, and no sign that Ronon had been taken. "Teyla?"

She was studying the tracks. "Ronon was here, and moved on towards the ridge up there."

"It looks like a dead end."

"I do not think so, Major."

"Okay, let's go. McKay?"

"I'm climbing up there?" Lorne raised his brow. "All right, I'm climbing up there." He shouldered his data pad and kept the small detector in his hand.

Teyla was small and light-footed. She covered the ground quickly following Ronon's tracks. "He went up there," she pointed. "I can see the path. It's quite steep and narrow."

"My day keeps getting better," Lorne sighed. "C'mon, Doc."

"I did tell you I flunked mountain climbing?" It was a half-hearted protest. Even McKay was driven by the hope that they would find their friends at the end of the path.

The entrance to the cave was a dark gash in the rocks. Lorne and the others switched on the flashlights on their P-90s as they filed inside. Lorne held up his fist. "Careful," he cautioned. "Single file. Teyla, behind me. Next McKay."

"Shouldn't the marines go first?" Rodney asked.

"You've got the detector. I need you up front."

"Right."

They moved in single file, then emerged into the first large cavern. Lorne swept his flashlight up and around; the crystals cast back the light in all colors of the rainbow as if filtered through a prism. The marines stood gaping at the sight, awed by what they had revealed merely by illuminating it.

"Let there be light," Lorne murmured. He looked around at the dark tunnels leading off from the main cavern. "Question is, where do we go from here?"

"I can help with that," Rodney said. "How about that one ..." He pointed.

"Anything particular tell you that?"

"Well, umm, there is signal from Ronon's transmitter ... is that good enough?"

"Is there just one life sign?" Teyla asked urgently.

"Yes."

A little more hope bled out of their hearts. Ronon was alive; perhaps injured, but alive. "Let's go," Lorne ordered. "Two of the marines hold this position just in case somebody else decides to pay a visit. The rest of you, with me."

They went as quickly as they could, conscious of the treacherous stone underfoot, and the narrow passage. "Ronon!" Lorne called out. He directed his flashlight ahead. "Ronon! It's Lorne and Teyla."

"'bout time," Ronon's voice whispered out to them from the shadows ahead. "I've got Sheppard."

Teyla clutched Lorne's sleeve and buried her head in his shoulder. "They're alive!" She nearly sobbed in relief, but caught herself and drew upright.

Lorne's eyes glittered. "Let's go get them."

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

They were all taken aback by what they found. Sheppard, the indestructible, the steel, the backbone of Atlantis, clinging to Ronon, refusing to look at them, refusing to allow them to pry his fingers away from Ronon's shirt.

"Leave it," Ronon said. "I'll carry him."

Lorne looked doubtful. "You do know how narrow the path is, right?"

"I'm fine. He's not."

That much was obvious to all of them. Lorne wished he had Dr. Beckett on the team. At least it would be a short trip home. "Let's do it," he said. Less than half an hour later, they were in Atlantis.

They were home.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 **Part Three**

Ronon would have stayed in the infirmary with Sheppard gladly, but staying there as a fellow patient was not what he had in mind. Over his objections, Beckett had him hooked up to an IV for hydration as a precaution and to treat his various abrasions to prevent infection.

Sheppard was curled up on the other bed, not three feet away. He hadn't spoken, hadn't opened his eyes, just lay there clutching the blankets and panting, his breath quick and light as a cornered animal. Ronon, for the first time since joining up with Sheppard, was truly scared. What had those bastards done to him? Sheppard wouldn't break under pain, under torture and imprisonment. Still, something had broken him. Ronon feared he was beyond recall.

He could hear the voices of the others beyond the curtains. Dr. Weir asking, "How are they doing?" And Beckett's answer. "Ronon will be fine. No worries."

"What about Colonel Sheppard?"

"That's more complicated. Physically, apart from exposure, dehydration, starvation and miscellaneous infections, he'll pull through. None of those are life threatening. However, what caused him such mental torture, I don't know. He's heavily sedated, and I'm waiting for the results of more blood work. It's possible he was given some sort of drug to bring on this psychosis." Beckett looked at them all. "I don't know," he repeated helplessly.

"We should let you get back to work," Elizabeth said. Sbe looked at the others. "As should we."

She could see the reluctance in their faces. She didn't know what else she could do. She had a city to run, they had answers to find. She looked at Lorne. "Major, take your team and Dr. McKay back to Caldos. I think there are still questions to be answered there."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ronon heard the voices fade as they left. Beckett returned, looked at Sheppard's vital signs and gently withdrew the IV from Ronon's arm. "I suppose you'll be wanting to go with the Major?"

Ronon looked at Sheppard. The warrior in him wanted to wring every last drop of blood from Heurin for the part he had played in this, but the guardian in him wanted to stay with Sheppard. This once, the guardian won out. "I'll stay with him," he said and felt heat touch his cheeks as if he were admitting to a weakness.

Beckett, however, looked relieved. "Good. He needs you." He taped up Ronon's arm. "I'll have somebody bring you some food. You should eat."

Ronon wasn't hungry, but Beckett was right; his body needed fuel. The food, when it came, tasted like sawdust. He looked at Sheppard. "You aren't missing anything," he said. He finished eating, then got out of bed and dragged a chair over to Sheppard's bedside. He gently pried the blanket out of Sheppard's fist and slid his warm fingers into Sheppard's cool grip. His clasp tightened around Ronon's and his eyelids fluttered. For an instant, Ronon thought he saw a glimpse of hazel pupils. He asked one of the nurses to find Teyla before she left with Lorne.

Maybe she thought he was a little crazy when she came to the infirmary. She pulled a length of scarlet thread from her pocket. "Is this what you need?"

"Yeah, thanks. Be careful out there."

"I will not be alone," Teyla answered. She touched his arm and then John's, before she left.

Ronon looped the thread around Sheppard's wrist, and then made a loose slipnot over his own. "Sheppard," he whispered. "You're safe. You're home. I won't leave."

A sound, almost a sigh ... and Sheppard relaxed and slept.

Two days later, he woke up.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 _Disoriented. Sounds, dim lights, voices that sounded like hollow, harsh whispers. Wraith!_ "No!" He sat up, yanking at IV tubes, tearing them out of his arms. They would cut him, drug him, put him in a cocoon. Feed on him. He had to get out. Escape!

Ronon came upright in his chair. He had dropped off to sleep and woke to chaos, and John's wild eyes. Blood ran down Sheppard's arms, his face was slick with sweat. He didn't have the strength to do anything. He crumpled to the floor, buried his face in his hands, and shook.

Ronon crouched down next to him, one had raised to ward off the nurses and Dr. Cole. "Sheppard," he whispered. "Look at me. You know me?" He touched John's shoulder, let his hand rest there, warm and solid. "C'mon, buddy. I'm real. Feel my hand?" He stroked Sheppards shoulder gently. One of the nurses held out a cloth. Ronon wrapped it around John's bleeding arm. "Look at me," he coaxed. "You're safe."

 _Look at me ... I'm real ... feel my hand ... "You're safe ..._ John's whole body was shaking, but he couldn't resist that voice. "Ronon?" His voice was shaking.

"It's me." He felt tremors running through Sheppard's body as the adrenaline surge faded. Sheppard was faintly green.

"Gonna be sick ... " He retched into the basin Ronon had grabbed, but nothing but bile came up. "Sorry."

"Nothin' new," Ronon said. He folded his arms around Sheppard, lifted him and set him back on the bed. "You let Dr. Cole take care of you, okay?"

"Stay?"

"Right here." He watched as Sheppard endured the IVs, the examination, the medical personnel surrounding him, but the entire time, his eyes were locked on Ronon.

After the medical team had left, John lay back against the pillows. He felt empty, aching; ashamed. "What happened to me?"

"You don't remember?"

"I can hardly remember my name."

"You remembered me," Ronon said. "The other things will come back when you're ready."

"What if they don't?"

Ronon didn't answer, because he didn't know. "You're alive. Stay with that."

John was too tired to think about it. He closed his eyes. "Don't leave." He felt something braceleting his wrist and forced one eye open. Ronon had slipped a scarlet thread around his wrist. The other end was looped around Ronon's. "What's that for?" he asked.

"Someday I'll tell you. Right now, it means I won't leave."

John's eyes were too tired to stay open and his mind was letting go of fear and panic. He drifted off again, just barely aware of the touch of the thread on his skin, and Ronon's quiet presence.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Lorne stepped through the gate on Caldos, followed by Teyla and the marines. Caldos, always silent, always dank was even more so at dusk. Lorne held up his hand. "I smell smoke," he said.

"Sir," Stackhouse pointed to the horizon where the lowering clouds were tinged with a dark reddish hue. Lorne had thought it was a rare sunset, but now it looked horribly familiar.

"Teyla?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "The Wraith have been here." The sound of the marine's guns being brought to bear was loud in the silence. She shook her head. "They are not here, now."

Lorne cursed thinking of the two marines he had detailed to keep an eye on Heurin. "We'd better check for survivors." He knew it was a slight possibility, but they had to be sure.

When they entered the village, they paused, stunned. There wasn't a building untouched by destruction, husks of bodies lay scattered like autumn leaves. There wasn't a sound, not even a whisper of wind. Just death and emptiness.

"Check the houses, but be careful. Start with Heurin's. If anybody survived, that self-serving bastard would be the one."

Rodney looked at the detector. "I doubt you'll find anything larger than an insect alive."

Lorne sighed. "Maybe there's something at Heurin's that might help Beckett figure out what happened to Colonel Sheppard."

Heurin's house, stone-built, was still standing, unlike the wooden structures, but it had been gutted. Lorne shoved the door aside with his foot. There were two bodies on the floor. Stackhouse bent over them. "Sir," he held out two sets of dog tags. "It's our men." He sounded very young. Angrily, Lorne kicked through the smoking debris on the floor. Even if the marines had signed on knowing the danger to their lives, it still hurt him deeply to lose them. There was no sign of Heurin."Can't ever accuse the Wraith of not being thorough," Lorne said and coughed as the smoke hit the back of his throat.

McKay rubbed his eyes. "Why the Wraith, here and now? This place isn't in the path of their culling."

"Perhaps the Genii led them here, either willingly or by betrayal," Teyla suggested.

"The Genii hate the Wraith as much as we do. Why lead them to a feeding ground?"

"Because the Genii wanted this place destroyed," Lorne said. "They had what they wanted."

"But the Wraith turned on them," McKay supplied. "I'm almost okay with that ... now that we have Sheppard back."

"It wasn't the Wraith who killed our men," Stackhouse said. "It was the Genii. The bodies were burned in the fire, but they weren't fed on. They were already dead."

A marine's voice came over the comms. "Sir, I think we've found Heurin."

"Alive?"

"No, sir. He was dead before the Wraith came. Looks like the Genii got to him."

"What the fuck is going on?" Lorne wondered. "It's not making much sense."

"What about the Genii has ever made sense?" Rodney asked.

"There's nothing here. Let's go home." Lorne was tired and it showed in his face, in his slumped shoulders.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Beckett folded up his stethoscope and crossed his arms. "There really isn't any medical reason for me to keep you here, Colonel."

John knew what he should say, what he would have said two weeks ago. _"Great. Let me out. When can I go on missions again?"_ But this day, he only knew that once he stepped out from the white curtains partitioning the treatment areas, that he would be alone, and that made him shake. He was still proud enough to force himself to hide that from Beckett.

"Okay. When can I go on missions?"

"When you're back to full strength and you feel ready. I won't downplay what you've been through, Colonel. You'll follow up with Dr. Heightmeyer, of course."

"I'm fine."

Beckett gave him a resigned look. "You know as well as I do, that it's standard protocol after being held by the enemy."

"I don't remember anything! I could have fallen into that hole by accident."

"You didn't. You were captured, tortured, drugged and left to die."

It sounded brutal coming from Carson. John crossed his arms to hide his shaking hands. "I will," he agreed. He gathered up the few belongings that had accumulated in the infirmary. "Thanks, doc."

"Come back tomorrow for some follow-up blood work."

"Sure. See you tomorrow." He hesitated, thinking of the walk back to his quarters. Carson had pulled the curtains aside, waiting. He stepped out, and there was Ronon, lounging against the wall and looking casual; like this was something they had planned all along.

"You ready?"

John felt like he could breathe again. "Yeah."

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Ronon could sense the anxiety in Sheppard as he paced beside him. He had taken the gangways rather than transporters and main halls just to shield him from curious eyes. Ronon remembered how it had been for him when he came to Atlantis; the fear, the itch between his shoulder blades, the wondering if he belonged here or if he should run again.

Sheppard's fears were different, but palpable nonetheless. Ronon wouldn't expose those raw nerves to any scrutiny until he was sure Sheppard could endure it. When they reached John's quarters Sheppard waved his hand over the controls. The door slid aside obediently. That was the easy part. The hard part was getting inside. Sheppard hesitated. Ronon stood behind him, the bulk of his shoulder giving support without being obvious. "One step," he said.

"Right." They were over the threshold. Sheppard stood in the middle of the room, his arms wrapped around his ribs. Then, as if he realized how vulnerable that made him look, he stuck them in his pockets. "So ... I guess you're going back to work?"

"Dr. Weir gave me some time off. Beckett said I was running a fever."

"Are you?"

"Maybe. I'm taking pills. My side got scraped up when I was getting you out of that place."

"I guess I don't remember."

"Naw, you were out." Ronon shrugged. "I'm fine."

"So, nothing to do. Want to watch a movie?"

Ronon didn't. He'd rather just sit and keep an eye on Sheppard, but that wouldn't work right now. "Got something with horses?" He had a fascination with them. There had been no animals like that on Sateda, only beasts of burden that moved slowly. Like oxen, Sheppard had said.

Sheppard put in _The Man from Snowy River,_ and since the best view of the screen was from the bed, they both sat there, side by side, bolstered by pillows. Ronon was so absorbed in the story that he didn't notice Sheppard dropping off to sleep until his head rested heavy and warm on Ronon's shoulder. That was all right, Ronon decided. He settled in more comfortably and continued to watch the movie while Sheppard slept on.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Lorne laid the charred dog tags on Elizabeth's desk. "I lost two men," he said. "Orenski and Collins."

Elizabeth looked from the tags, to Lorne's sad, fatigued eyes. "I'm sorry, Major. It's not your fault."

"Not my fault, but my responsibility."

"And ultimately, mine" She sighed and studied Lorne. "Please, sit down, Major." She thought he might collapse otherwise. "What can you tell me?"

He told her about the Genii. About the Wraith. About finding Heurin dead. And _not_ finding what had been done to Colonel Sheppard and why. That was almost as hard as finding the dead marines. "How is Colonel Sheppard?"

"He's out of the infirmary. Why not pay him a visit?"

"Later. I have reports to write."

"Usually, I would thank you for being so prompt, but truly, Major, take a break and get some rest. Your reports can wait."

Lorne managed to get up off the chair and out of Weir's office without toppling over. He didn't know if Sheppard was ready to see him, not after the way he had been when they had left for Caldos, but he wanted to see Sheppard. He wanted to tell the marines that their comrades hadn't died in vain; that their efforts were worth something. If that something was good news about their military commander, then they deserved that. He didn't have to decide right now.

He went to his quarters, showered, and fell into bed. Just before he drifted off, he was aware that for the first time since Sheppard had been captured, the hum of the city no longer seemed discordant and hollow. After an hour he woke, dressed and started toward's Colonel Sheppard's quarters. Teyla was walking down the same corridor. She greeted him with a smile. "Are you going to see the Colonel?"

"If he'll see me," Lorne said. "I mean --"

"Yes, I understand. He will be all right," she said. "He is the stongest man I have ever met."

"Even the strongest man can't fight indefinitely. We don't know what Sheppard was given by the Genii. If it was the Genii."

"Dr. Beckett would not have released him from the infirmary if he were not better," Teyla said.

"He would have if there was nothing else --"

Teyla touched his arm. "It is not like you to be so pessimistic, Major."

Lorne ran a hand over his hair and tried to smile. "Yeah. I'm trying."

They stood in front of Sheppard's quarters. Lorne squared his shoulders like he expected a foe to be waiting on the other side of the door. Instead, it was just Ronon, standing there with a concerned frown on his face.

"How's Colonel Sheppard?" Lorne asked.

"Sleeping."

"But how _is_ he?" Lorne repeated, his brow slanting up.

Ronon's frown relaxed. "Shaky, but okay. Doc says whatever the Genii gave him is wearing off. You find anything new?" he asked.

Lorne drew him into the corridor and let Teyla go inside. "The Wraith culled the planet. Heurin is dead. The Genii killed him and then let the Wraith finish the planet off. There's nobody left."

Ronon sighed and leaned against the wall. "Who is Acasta Kolya?"

Teyla came to the door and aswered softly. "He is a Genii commander who tried to take over Atlantis the first year we were here. He is a murderer and a traitor. He hates Colonel Sheppard for thwarting his ambitions."

"I'd say he's our number one suspect," Lorne said. He had read the mission reports, but at the time the Wraith had been their primary focus and the Genii had seemed to be apparent allies. That had been a mistake. Lorne decided he definitely needed to brush up on his Genii history and politics. If Sheppard had a price on his head, next time he might not be so lucky. "Maybe the Wraith killed him," he suggested.

"No. His body wasn't among the Genii. He was probably holding the gun," Ronon said, making perfect sense to Lorne.

"So we went through this for nothing," Lorne sighed.

"We got Sheppard back," Ronon gave him a hard look. "That's enough."

"How much of Sheppard did we get back?"

"All of him. He just needs to find his way home."

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

John woke to the sound of voices outside his door. For a moment he felt he was back in the cave, alone, in the dark, listening to far away voices receding. His heart began beating painfully against his rib cage. He raised his hand to cover his eyes and loose end of the scarlet thread Ronon had tied around his wrist bushed against his skin. The harmonics of Atlantis soothed him and his pulse slowed to normal. He sat up and the light level in his room went from dim to semi-bright.

He heard the soft rumble of Ronon's voice outside the door, the sweet cadence of Teyla's the crisp, wry intonations of Evan Lorne. His friends. He knew that Elizabeth and Rodney would come later; Elizabeth with the cool eyes of a leader and the sympathetic concern of a woman. Rodney with his scientist's interest and rampant curiosity. John didn't think he could cope with all that nervous energy of McKay's right now.

As silently as he could, he went over to the bathroom and splashed cool water on his face. He didn't feel as disconnected as he had, but he was torn between needing to be alone and fear of that solitude. He dried his face and went back to the bed. Outside there was silence, then the door opened and Ronon came inside.

"You're awake."

"Can't sleep all the time."

"I can get some food." Ronon's brow lifted like it did when he had a question that wasn't really a question.

"I guess I'd better eat or Beckett will stick me back in the infirmary." Ronon smiled, wide and happy, like John had just given him a gift. "What?"

"Sounds good. Sounds like yourself."

John could have made a smart retort, but he found he couldn't. He looked at the thread around his wrist. "So, tell me about this."

Ronon told him about the custom as he unwrapped the thread and tied the end around his own wrist. When he pulled out a small knife to sever the thread, John stopped him. "I don't know if I'm quite up to flying solo," he said.

Ronon still cut the thread. "This thread is the color of blood, the color of life, the color of courage. We are bound together for life," he said, reciting the words of the scarlet thread ritual.

"That's pretty heavy stuff," John said.

"It's supposed to be."

Sheppard toyed with the dangling end of the thread. "You can cut that thread, say the words, but walking out that door still makes me shake."

"I know. That's why Teyla is bringing dinner."

John felt a slow warmth begin to melt the cold ice that had lodged in his gut when he had come to in captivity; stripped, blinded, beaten, abandoned. He could have survived that. The needle stick and the fluid that had flowed through his veins like acid rain, corroding his courage and his strength. That, he couldn't fight. "They drugged me," he said helplessly. "They took away my power to act, to move, to see ..." his voice shook. "They took away my power to think, and then they left me to _fucking_ die!"

He struck out and Ronon grabbed his wrist before his fist could impact against the wall. "That's not going to help," he said. John's laugh was edged with hysteria. His eyes burned, but he willed the tears away. Ronon's hands rested on his shoulders. John knew he felt every tremor of his body, every quivering muscle.

John sat down on the bed, his legs gone weak. "God, I'm a mess." He thrust his fingers though his hair and rubbed his eyes. "I need food."

Ronon was silent for a long time ... not so unusual. What he said when he did speak, was. "Maybe you need to talk to Heightmeyer."

"What?"

"She's good. She helped me ... after, after Sateda."

"You went to Heightmeyer?"

"Teyla said I should. She said she could help me sort things out."

John tried to think back. "What sort of things?"

"Like being betrayed. Being captured again. Being drugged, held down and implanted." He sighed. "I would have been dead if Beckett didn't have the balls to shoot that Wraith."

"I would have shot him before it came to that," John said, sounding slightly defensive. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah, but that's not the point."

"So, how screwed up am I?"

Ronon gave him a sidelong, amused look. "Pretty screwed up. But you're getting better."

"It doesn't feel that way."

"It will." Ronon's faith was absolute, and that did make John feel better, because if Ronon had recovered from his hell, John would recover from what had been done to him.

There was a soft chime from the door and John let is slide open. Teyla came in with a mess tray of soup and soft, fresh bread. Coffee. "Either I'm worse off than I thought, or somebody bribed the cook."

Teyla laughed. "I admit, we did suggest that we would be very grateful if Sergeant Karpinski would use the ovens instead of serving you an MRE."

"Thank you." They sat and ate, Sheppard discovered he was hungry. He hadn't wanted to eat in the infirmary, and it wasn't just the food that had put him off. Here, with friends, secure in his city's walls and surrounded by his things, he was coming back to himself.

After Teyla left, he sat back and cautiously stretched, wincing as his bruised ribs pulled. "I'm going to take a steam shower," he said. He looked at Ronon, sitting quietly and looking out over the city. "You don't have to stay," he said, even though the thought of being alone made him cold.

Ronon just said, "I'll stay." He went back to looking out over the city. He was still there when John came out of the bathroom. He pulled back his blankets and lay down. Ronon let the lights dim and sat in the moonlight. John listened to the sound of the waves against the stones far below his window. He fingered the scarlet thread around his wrist and drifted into sleep.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Dr. Heightmeyer's office:

 _"So, Colonel Sheppard, how do you feel about what happened to you?"_

 _"How should I feel? Angry? Frightened? Depressed?"_

 _"Is that how you feel?"_

 _"In varying degrees. More angry than depressed."_

 _"And fear?"_

 _"I'm working on it. Beckett says it's a residual effect of the drug I was given."  
"Good."_

 _"Can I go now?"_

 _"Let's talk about your anger."_

 _"Not much to talk about. I was left for dead by Kolya. Tell me you wouldn't be angry in my place?"_

 _"I'd be very angry. What are you going to do with all that anger?"_

 _"Deal with it."_

 _"How?"_

 _"I'm here, aren't I?"_

 _"Good. I'm glad you are. I know it's not easy for you."_

 _"Listen, doc. I'll be honest with you. I'm here because it's SOP, and I want to go back to work. I'm dealing with things. I've got my friends at my side. I'll be fine."_

 _"Yes, I think you will be. First, let's talk about what happened."_

John felt sick when he finished his session with Heightmeyer, but waiting outside and looking like he had nothing better to do than hold up the wall, was Ronon.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

It took three more sessions with Heightmeyer before she would sign off on his return to the field. Then he had to endure a thorough physical from Beckett. He lay on the exam table, watching the scan of his body. Nothing beeped, lit up, or made the scanner pause to take more detailed images.

"So, Doc. I'm in the clear, right?" He sat up, ran a hand over his hair, and tried to look like he hadn't a care in the world.

"There's nothing wrong with you."

John eyed him. "Okay ... that doesn't sound too confident."

Beckett looked worried. "We finally finished the analysis of the drug you were given. It was a derivative of Wraith enzyme that had been genetically altered to attach to the adrenal glands, making the subject hyper-vigilant, fearful, increasing the heartbeat and respiration -- all the pysical symptoms you were displaying when you were rescued. It also contained enough enzyme to act as a psychotic agent. It was designed to kill you, one way or another."

"I'm clear now, right?"

"As far as I can tell."

"But ...?"

"I don't know how you will react in a situation where you'll need that charge of adrenaline."

John slid off the table. "There's only one way to find out. Sign off on my Fit For Duty form and let me get out there."

There wasn't much else Beckett could do, so he signed the form and John plucked it from his reluctant fingers before he could change his mind.

The team was gathered in the control room waiting for him. McKay was fiddling with his tablet. Teyla and Ronon were checking their weapons, but they all looked up when John joined them. "So, where are we going?" John asked.

"M473X. Looks promising as either an alpha site or a resettlement possibility. No recent Wraith activity."

It was an easy way to ease back into the job. "Let's see what's out there," John said. He looked back at Elizabeth Weir. Lorne was standing next to her, his team would follow Sheppard's when he gave the all clear. He gave them a thumbs up. "Dial it," he said and turned back to the gate.

Ronon held out John's black wristband. "You left this in the locker room."

John still wore the scarlet thread around his wrist. He slipped the towling band over the thread and tucked it in neatly.

Ronon's eyes warmed. He held out his hand. "Welcome back."

An edge of scarlet showed beneath the leather brace he wore. The thread was thin, tenuous, but it was as red and as true as blood, and as strong as the man who had saved his life. John heard, soft in his mind, the words, _We are bound together for life._. John took Ronon's hand. "Thanks, buddy."

Ronon smiled, nodded. The gate came to life and they stepped through.

 **The End**


End file.
